


Crush

by Riakon



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Xenophilia, kink Sensitive skin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2019-03-20
Packaged: 2019-09-19 16:17:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17004969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Riakon/pseuds/Riakon
Summary: Absolute memory helps Connor accurately recall the moment when his crash began. The starting point to which it would be useful to restore the system, because it was the one which changed everything. The first internal error revealing many more so many of the same and it’s the reason why now the RK800 is sure that it is easier to disassemble and reset it than to fix him. And, of course, it’s cheaper just taking the new "Connor" from the conveyor.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lukelemon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lukelemon/gifts).



Absolute memory helps Connor accurately recall the moment when his crash began. The starting point to which it would be useful to restore the system, because it was the one which changed everything. The first internal error revealing many more so many of the same and it’s the reason why now the RK800 is sure that it is easier to disassemble and reset it than to fix him. And, of course, it’s cheaper just taking the new "Connor" from the conveyor.

Only it is not necessary to send to work at the site of the other one, because his follower will have to wait for exactly the same unenviable fate and the replacement will also have to be destroyed, because «Connor» is one from lots of them and detective Gavin Reed is unique.

Yes, exactly, if it were not for the detective, then nothing would have happened. Deviation, revolution, peace talks, new government, android representations all over the world - all this just some dust that does not matter. Before it Connor was convinced that only Hank patting his head like a son was that important person who means everything to him. For real, of course. It doesn’t mean that he did not appreciate his colleagues, but still they were far less substantial to him.

However, Detective Reed immediately took a special place in his hierarchy, from that first meeting in the kitchen.

They josh each other every day. Every day, Detective Reed speaks of the mental and professional virtues of the android disparagingly, and Connor answers him with the same gibes, not intending to remain in debt, especially under the guidance of Hank.

It's like a game, constant, eternal, endless which brought so much pleasure to each of them.

Everything ended suddenly. One day the detective just passed by him like an empty place. No greetings, no jokes, no insane demand to buy him cigarettes – nothing of it. He did not even look at the android.

And Connor is hurt.

The same thing happened the next day. And other one. And if such methods of attracting attention were prescribed in the RK800 software, he would definitely ask the person if he finally realized what a huge chasm between them, but he does not have such a function, and it would be suddenly scary to ask such a question.

Ordinary T-shirts, in which bulging bones of clavicles under the throat of a detective change into high-necked turtlenecks at about the same time. This is strange, considering that he spent the whole winter in a battered jacket and three T-shirts, and in the spring he suddenly remembered that it would be better to dress warmly.

Connor finds this strange until the very day of X. Till the first failure and error.

He just walks into the kitchen to make Hank coffee. The detective flips through the tape or just plays something on the phone, leaning on a table - the android can’t see. He’s not staring. He just looks over his shoulder when a strange darkening on the detective's neck attracts his attention.

The first thought was that he got dirty, and Connor stretches his hand to erase the dirty footprint, but he even can’t get in time to touch the skin with his fingers when a shudder runs through the body of the detective for a second, and then Reed lifts his shoulders and turns, looking gloomy.

\- What are you, tin?

\- You got dirty, - Connor says absently, but instead of the supposed question “where?” the detective only raises the gate and throws displeasure:

\- This is not your business, plastic freak.

He leaves the kitchen and Connor alone with a malfunction in the system which shows him a slight shiver runs over the detective's body again and again from the moment he had not even touched it yet, had not felt the soft skin under tips of his fingers, had not slid along the curve of the neck on repeat.

And now Gavin Reed's skin sensitivity will be one of the recurring questions that will plague the RK800 for the next five weeks.


	2. Chapter 2

It seemed to him, that there was nothing bad about thinking about the shuddering of a human’s body, the soft moan it could produce with a sudden gasp. In his mind, Connor could hear him and wondered. Everyone fantasizes, right? So why shouldn’t Androids engage in these thoughts too? Connor doesn’t even question himself on this, just takes it as a fact, as a given.

“Are you okay?” Hank asks when they arrive home. Connor hesitates. He doesn’t believe there’s any reason to bother Hank with such a small matter.

“Yes. I’m fine.” Connor responds, continuing to twist in the memory for another moment.

“You’re unusually quiet today.” Hank continues and Connor notices him frowning. A sure sign Hank knows something is bothering him, but he won’t insist on pressing further if Connor doesn’t want to talk more on it. Connor is hopeful he’s read Hank correctly and gives only a half truth response.

“Detective Reed is acting strange lately.” Connor said with a sigh. In return, Hank gives him a good natured smile.

“Well, he’s stopped bullying you. He probably met someone, finally and settled down.”

Connor felt something in him crash at this. Another prick to his heart he was unprepared for.

Met… someone?

Thinking back on the mark on Gavin’s neck, it could be true. He originally thought it was dirt, but now he wondered if it was a hickey left by someone in the heat of passionate sex. If Detective Reed met someone a week ago, then it would also explain why he no longer has the strength nor the desire to argue with Connor anymore. No matter how much he misses their joint skirmishes.

It sounds pretty logical, but what kind of a person would be able to endure the bitter nature of Detective Reed? And why does the thought of it make Connor feel so unpleasant?

In Connor’s simulation, a man shudders, exhales barely audible as he turns his head to give him a short glance. The glance alone makes Connor’s face turn blue, and suddenly sitting next to Hank becomes uncomfortable.

“I think I’ll go to my room.” Connor mumbles as he stands. Hank looks at him, surprised, but Connor pretends not to notice it as he tries hard not to run to his own room.

It’s dark and quiet once he closes the door. Here, he can safely concentrate on the fantasy. That he would like to see Gavin like that, so warm and alive in his hands. To trace his palms over the Detective’s skin, barely touching, but causing him to shiver and moan in response. Just examining every pore and indentation of scarring on his beautiful body with these hands. All so Gavin Reed would look at him with hazy, deep hazel eyes, opening his mouth to expel the warm breath caught in the air between them.

There is a place where fantasy ends and sleep begins. But for Connor, he cannot distinguish the difference between them. He just plunges himself into one of them without being thought. Is this what people call dreams? Time passes until dawn peaks and Connor fills every moment of thought up with Detective Reed.


	3. Chapter 3

For almost a week, Connor only thinks about what he saw, what he thought out, what he would like. He still doesn't see anything catastrophic in that in his free time he is occupied with fantasies about a person. A person who still pretends not to see him point-blank. He contrives to look past Connor even when they stand close, and how he does it is a mystery.

At work it is surprisingly quiet, there are no rush job, so there are some trifles, such as thefts and hijackings, but with the help of a single android such crimes are no longer a problem for the department. And the only android slowly goes crazy when at his desktop accidentally intersects with Detective Reed.

He puts the folder on the top shelf of the rack, standing on the tiptoes, and his turtleneck pulls up with a sweatshirt, exposing a narrow strip of leather over jeans.

“Dimples,” Connor states surprised mutely. Detective Reed has got dimples above her buttocks. Covered with thick denim and a hoodie, they were never seen.

Cool fingers touch a bare skin area before Connor manages to stop himself. Light, as opposed to a tanned detective in principle, the skin looks so inviting that 800 can not do anything with itself. His head is empty and the wind, when his fingertips barely touch defenseless skin.

An exhale in Connor's imagination is nothing, just a pathetic imitation compared to what is torn from Detective Reed’s lips. Full of languor, passion, but at the same time a barely perceptible, almost gentle exhalation, there is no moan in it, but it's already perfect - Connor handles all this before a person turns around, raising his lip over one of the fangs and spits out with hatred:

\- Once again you touch me with a finger and I will break your hands, clearly, sbrendivshy toaster?

Connor catches himself in pleasure. He likes the attention of the detective, and he missed these tricks, threats, so he adds with disarming politeness, looking straight at his face:

“Even if you want, you cannot break even one finger outside, sir. You do not have enough strength for this.”

He is waiting for an offer to try with hidden joy. He is waiting for insults and attention, even if in the form of hatred, then in response only receives an obscure hiss, and the retreating back of Detective Reed.

Back, with alluring dimples above the buttocks.

A system failure adds to the past fantasy a gorgeous breath absorbed to the last note. And also short, gentle kisses right in the hollows, while his hands will confidently hold the detective by his sides.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you want to find more of my works? I recommend to follow the link to Twitter and learn more about my work in fastening!)  
> https://twitter.com/Riakon3  
> I also have a community in VK and on a tumbler for porn preview:  
> https://vk.com/riakon_porn  
> https://riakon.tumblr.com  
> And there is also a discord for chatter:  
> https://discord.gg/4ZaUEX  
> https://riakon.tumblr.com


End file.
